Neddy's Five & One
by DanCains
Summary: ..or five times Edward Rutledge attempts to seduce a fellow congressman (for the sake of stopping American Independence of course-why else?), and the one time one of them seduced him...(Rutledge/everyone) slash & crack. rating might go up...
1. Adams

**...**

Delegate Edward "Neddy" Rutledge slowly peered around the edge of the door to the empty congress hall, or nearly empty, considering the singular Massachusetts delegate, the one known to be both short and short-tempered, still remained in his seat, despite the fact that congress had been dismissed some hours ago.

John Adams' dark brows were knitted together in concentration as he quickly scrawled upon the single piece of parchment on the table in front of him, his form backlit from the single candle nearby. He, apparently, was still unaware of the hall's other occupant as he continued writing without as much as a glance to the wide double door.

_Perfect _Neddy mentally purred before he swiftly and deftly made his way to the other side of the room and positioned himself behind the sitting Bostonian.

Breezily, he place both well manicured hands on John Adams' shoulders.

"What are you writin' there, sah?" he drawled in Adams' ear, his accent thickening.

Adams visibly tensed under his touch, but still refused to turn.

"Nothing!" he almost instantly replied, then slowed as he continued, "That is...nothing that you should be concerned of...Mister Rutledge." The venom and hatred were obvious in his tone, and the same feelings shone in his eyes. The new Englander's hand moved, crumpling the parchment and began to stuff the letter (or what appeared to be one) into one of his waistcoat pockets and stood to leave, eyeing the hand still curled around his bicep distastefully.

"But, _mistah Adams_," Rutledge chuckled, "Now you're just making me _so_ curious, what are you doing still hanging around here?" he removed one hand from John's shoulder blades and slid it around his side reaching into the same pocket. The Bostonian quickly grabbed Edward by the wrist, and with the other hand he ripped the precious document from the southerner's grasp, leaving only a small scrap of the parchment left caught in his fingers.

"As I said before, Mister Rutledge..." Adams hissed tersely, "_None_ of your business!".

He knew Rutledge was just toying with him as usual, taking advantage of his volatile nature and trying to gain am explosive reaction, spurring him into another argument or even a fight he most likely couldn't win. He was at his wits end with the way Rutledge had nearly have the congress neatly under his thumb, pitting them against Adams and his allies, the last thing he needed with him was a confrontation outside of congress.

Adams turned to the southerner ready to unleash some verbal fury when Rutledge slowly brought the Bostonian's hand to his lips. For once the great John Adams was silenced.

"Maybe it should be my business..".

Neddy couldn't help but smirk at the shorter man's pause, the color flushing his cheeks in the dim light, his eyes wider than he'd ever seen them before. _This is just too easy._

Suddenly the same hand on which he had just deposited a kiss had come back to give him a curt slap on the face.

"_Good God._.." John muttered with disgust as he untangled himself from the other delegate and left the same way Rutledge had come. he could hear him repeat his blasphemous mantra all the way out the main doors and on to the street. Now only Neddy remained, one had on his hip, and other rubbing his sore cheek, though he hadn't accepted defeat just yet.

**...**

so far:

Adams -1

Rutledge - 0

...

Author's Note: If I get at least one review I'll continue this, don't worry the next few chapters will be a bit longer. Up Next: John Hancock! :3


	2. Hancock

author's note: sorry for not updating for a while, was on vacation. and yes this will eventually end up Rutledge/Dickinson fyi..also this is complete unapolagetic crack

**...**

Rutledge was the first man to arrive at the Pennsylvania State House that day, just as he had been the very last

the night before, and he was there at the crack of dawn for a very specific purpose.

Meanwhile, a sleep deprived John Hancock was approaching the outside of the

door. Morning coffee, which would soon be brought to him by Mcnair, was the only thing on his mind as he reached into his coat

pocket, fishing out his copy of the old brass key.

Before he could attempt to unlock it, he realized

the door was already half open. Maybe Mcnair or another member of the staff was already there, he mused, _what an unorthodox event_.

He pushed the rest of it forward and was met with a very interesting sight.

Edward Rutledge was sprawled on his side across the congressional president's desk at the far end of the room, his head supported by one hand and a single rose clamped between his teeth. His white coat was draped over a nearby chair (_my chair_, Hancock noted) and his waistcoat was completely unbuttoned as were the top few buttons on his shirt, revealing a smooth, lean chest, lightly tanned by the South Carolina sunshine. One of the leather shoes on his stocking-clad feet was merely hanging off his toe (probably due to the provacative way his leg was flexed).

The shoe fell to the ground with a thud, the only sound in the empty chamber, while Rutledge attempted to smile seductively.

If the song "careless whispers" had already been written in the 1770's, and a device with which to play recordings on had been invented, than the smooth George Michael single would surely be playing faintly in the distance.

Hancock closed his tired eyes, certain he wasn't awake, but when he opened them Rutledge was...still there.

"And what the _hell_ is this, Mister Rutledge?" asked the older of the two.

After a moment of hesitation and eye-rolling, the southern gentleman removed the flower from his mouth and lazily replied (as if lying practically half-naked on someone's desk was the most natural and common thing in the world) "Just takin' a cat nap on this here desk, sah...oh and do please call me Edward, or even _Neddy_ if you prefer it..." he paused.

"_Mister Rutledge_, I will give you the time until I count to ten to remove yourself from my desk-

and from this room. Congress is not in session for another two hours and I don't wan't to see in this chamber

again until then. And until you're fully clothed."

"I just thought Johnny...that you might wan't to join me, listen to some reason." He started to rub the desk, his delicate

fingers making small circular (hopefully seductive) movements, until one of his nails scratched the polished wood surface making a loud unpleasant scraping noise.

They both winced.

Rutledge was now lying on his stomach, head supported by both palms. His face was still turned towards Hancock. An overturned candlestick now lay on the floor near his shoe.

"As you just said John, we have two whole hours."

Hancock couldn't believe it: Rutledge had just fluttered his eyelashes. This had gone on far enough.

"_Ten...nine...eight...seven..._"

Neddy gave a sigh of defeat, before sitting up, and slipping on his coat and shoe. He gave one last

pathetic eyebrow wiggle, and finally left the room. Hancock took the nearest seat and put a hand to his temple.

He decided that when Mcnair arrived he would ask for rum, not coffee.

**...**

Congress - 2

Rutledge - 0

**...**


	3. Jefferson part 1

enjoy! this chapter isn't finished yet, i'll add more tomorrow. reviews bring more chapters!

...

Edward Rutledge let his eyes wander; It was much too hot to do actual work.

Thomson was reading another one of Washington's dispatches-dull! John

Hancock still wasn't making eye contact with him, and he didn't have to guess why.

Nearby, Benjamin Franklin was happily chatting away with his favorite Delawarean

Caesar Rodney. Next to them sat John Dickinson, who seemed to me avoiding an

incoming conversation with Richard Henry Lee (situated directly behind him).

Dickinson turned his head towards Rutledge with a small sigh. His piercing

eyes made their way up the southerner's form, taking in every last drop. Their eyes

mad contact from across the room and Dickinson's face broke out into a grin. A real

smile. Not the type he gave at dinners, speeches, and those other formal events he

was so well known for. Not the sly smirk he would give to John Adams each morning.

A real and honest smile for the young man he found so...interesting.

"Mister Dickinson?" Hancock repeated.

"Oh..uh..yes, sir?" answered the startled delegate.

"Mister Dickinson, I have been trying to ask you a question."

"Well then, go ahead sir," was the curt reply.

Rutledge began to tune out as Hancock and Dickinson continued their conversation

about congressional committees (or some similar, and equally dull business). He surveyed the

chamber again, this time taking notice of the corners where Massachusetts table sat, or

more importantly: Mr. John Adams. Adams had been staring intently at the window, but when

he felt that someone was looking at him he began to openly glare at Rutledge.

If looks could kill, Neddy thought, as he glanced towards the window he seemed so fond of.

He then realized why. The only thing to see there was Thomas Jefferson. Or, more accurately, the

backside of Thomas Jefferson (if you were looking from from Adams' angle).

Rutledge couldn't help but give a knowing smirk.


	4. Chapter 4 - Author's note

authors note: hey everybody, I actually just rediscovered this account by accident, as you can seen I started this story a few years ago and subsequently sort of forgot about it... If anyone is still following it/interested in it please shoot me a pm or review letting me know and I'll gladly continue it (and hopefully my writing will have improved quite a lot over the years, I might even go back and edit/lengthen the previous chapters..) thanks~

edit: just edited and rewrote some bits in chapters 1 and 2, so those have definitely improved and are worth checking out...working on 3 and a brand new chapter currently...

edit: ( July 4th, 2014) Hey all, I'm back (again, whoops). i was watching 1776 for the 4th of July and suddenly remembered that I had left this fic unfinished..you can expect a new chapter later today : )


	5. Jefferson part 2

...

It was about half past noon, and most of Congress was taking their lunch break (which tended to last much longer than absolutely necessary), when Rutledge made his next move. The South Carolinian delegate stealthily glided across the room, through the scattered cliques of congressman still hovering about, and made his way to where Thomas Jefferson was still perched in the frame of the window with his nose in a thin leather bound book.

Jefferson's eyes roamed the page, completely apathetic to anything but the words in front of him, and the pleasantly warm sunlight bathing him through the open window (flies be damned he had thought). When he realized that Jefferson hadn't noticed his approach, Rutledge pulled up a nearby chair and stretched his feet out onto the table next to it, mirroring Jefferson's pose of complete nonchalance.

"I say, Mistah Jefferson, what _are _you reading that has you so utterly preoccupied, Hmm? It seemed that, this fine morning, you were not at all interested in this _absolutely riveting _on-going debate on whether or not the soldiers from Rhode Island should be required to wear matching uniforms," Rutledge joked, turning on his best 100-watt smile.

This comment earned a chuckle from the Jefferson, who closed his book after dog-earring the corner of his current page. Well if you must know, I'm reading _Candide_, by the Frenchman Voltaire."

Rutledge nodded. The two congressman spent another ten minutes or so in light conversation, about books and such (because despite their opposing political views, they both had the capacity and the nature to be civil, especially towards a fellow southern gentleman), before the conversation unfortunately turned back to the major matter that had the congress all abuzz.

"I still cannot see how you can stand to side yourself with that miserable, obnoxious wretch Adams," Rutledge had said offhandedly, after surveying the hall and noticing that the Bostonian in question was thankfully not present.

"Although I don't agree with many of your political opinions, Mister Jefferson, I must admire your fortitude in withstanding the company of such a disagreeable, repugnant man!"

Quite to Rutledge's surprise, Jefferson scowled at his words, as if he himself was being personally insulted.

"Mister Rutledge, I won't sit here complacently, letting a compatriot of mine, whom I deeply respect, have his name dragged through the mud. Do you have anything more to say to me? If not I'm going to excuse myself to find some luncheon."

Rutledge's eyebrows shot nearly to his hairline at this sudden reaction from the usually mellow Virginian. He had always seemed to be annoyed by Adam's antics just as much as everyone else in the congress, but conceded to stand with him and Franklin because of their similar opinions on the future state of the colonies. Rutledge glanced around at the rest of the congress hall but the handful of men still meandering about didn't seem to notice the small outburst. Rutledge thought about something he had noticed earlier. He subtly (or in a move that he thought was subtle, but was not in the least) placed a hand on Jefferson's thigh, just above the knee, and lowered his voice considerably. "Mister Jefferson, Might I ask...might I extrapolate..that the reasons you put up with Adams go a bit beyond politics, that there might a be a personal aspect to it. Let me tell you, there's no shames in that sir, specially when all this declaration business seems to be costing you any chance of seeing your dear, sweet wife anytime soon..."

Jefferson gaped at him.

"Let me just tell you this, Mistah Jeferson," he continued, the purr of his southern drawl coming on even thicker, "that we from the deep south can take care of you just as well...if you know what I'm referrin' to." He swiftly removed his hand from Jefferson's leg, letting his silence and the lewd glimmer in his ice blue eyes speak for him.

"Mister Rutledge," Jefferson replied, barely containing his anger and disgust, "I think I have no more to say to you."

He fled from the room, nearly knocking over Edward Rutledge with his towering chiseled bulk on the way out.

...

Congress - 3

Rutledge - 0

...


End file.
